Jeffrey Pinto – So It Is A Competition
Jeffrey Pinto’s self-released EP, So It Is A Competition, is an auditory tease. A self-described multi-instrumentalist and frontman for Toronto-based My Shaky Jane, Pinto’s solo work experiments with arrangements, instruments, and styles creating a disjointed and nerve-wracking succession of songs. Though the ideas and the concepts are there, the execution is not.
“I Told You So” opens the album with a lush folk-pop sound, with smooth and eerily overdubbed vocals. Pinto’s nasally twang grates against the soothing yet somewhat monotonous percussion. On “It Is A Competition,” Pinto experiments with an excruciatingly long succession of arrangements that drag on past the five-minute mark, repeating the major progression ad nauseum. The track rambles aimlessly without crescendo or direction, with sporadic bursts of interesting though unrelated sounds.
Pinto hits his vocal stride on “Little Games”—his voice is clearly more suited to upbeat power-ballads than crooning folk-pop. Yet “Little Games” falls prey to a similar monotony, spending two minutes on the repeated phrase, “I don’t want to play your little games,” before jumping into a synth progression of diminutive percussion.
Pinto’s haunting church organ mixed with an electric guitar works wonders on “I Told You So.” But it’s a combination that’s missing from the rest of the EP.
Ultimately, it’s just a little too self-indulgent, running aimlessly without a real musical narrative, auditory crescendo, or climax—stimulating, sure, but not satisfying.
Vv
—Emily Kellogg
Sandman Viper Command – Everybody See This
When Burlington natives Sandman Viper Command chose Everybody See This as the title of their debut album, it was undoubtedly intended as a bold statement of the band’s supposed talent and originality. But after listening to this effort, it seems less like a declaration of confidence, and more a desperate plea for listeners to take notice of an album that is drenched in mediocrity.
The record opens with jaunty pop tune “Strawberry Quick,” a bouncy, upbeat number that creates the misleading notion that the album might hold some promise. The song, though catchy, is repetitive and predictable.
The remainder of the album reveals a steady decline in both the quality of songwriting and the band’s ability to intrigue the listener. It’s difficult to say which is worse: cringe-worthy songs like “Mushroom Samba” and “Sunday Driver” or the fact that the entire album, above anything else, is simply lacklustre and boring. From the opening rhythms of the first song to the uninspired ending of the last, no riff is infectious enough, nor any lyric poignant enough, to be captivating.
The album is not without a few commendable moments: some impressive instrumental flourishes prove that these boys are indeed capable musicians, but technical ability is rarely a reflection of a gifted and fully-formed band. While the odd guitar solo might be momentarily arresting, vocalist Rob Janson’s wavering, high-pitched whine becomes increasingly grating as the album plays on.
For an album whose title boasts such brazen self-assuredness, the delights are minuscule, and the disappointments immense.
Vv
—Niamh Fitzgerald
The Isosceles Project – Oblivion’s Candle
Oblivion’s Candle is the debut from Toronto prog-metal trio The Isosceles Project. It might be labeled an EP, but don’t let the track count fool you—with songs averaging 10 minutes in length, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.
On opening track “Doppelganger,” guitarist Eric Euler shows that he’s one of the best up-and-coming guitarists in Toronto, masterfully blending styles ranging from Mars Volta jazz-funK to crushing Pelican rhythms, all in a single song.
But the spotlight doesn’t belong solely to Euler—the band picked the name The Isosceles Project because it signifies two equal sides, the other half being the rhythm section, which rounds out with Scott Tessier on bass and Justin Falzon on drums. The Isosceles Project don’t deal in showboating, they’re just some of Toronto’s most technically superior musicians doing what they do best. Their intricate style allows the band to shine without the help of a vocalist.
It’s just as well, because the blasting metal rhythms of the standout title track can barely be put into words—the band claim it took them over six months to compose and master it. Next is “Solace,” which begins calm and droning and builds steadily before propelling the listener into a wall of spastic storming guitars.
Boasting tremendous creativity and passion, The Isosceles Project are starting a new metal movement in Toronto, and they’re doing it without words.
VVVV
—Alex Fortuna
Teeter – Heating Up
Teeter’s brand of upbeat heartbreak pop-punk evokes some major nostalgia for the days when Jimmy Eat World ruled and Fall Out Boy had yet to de-throne them. The jarring opening power chords of “Kiss Me and Kill Me After” are accompanied by harsh percussion and soaring harmonies, and they inspire a shuddering wave of nostalgic narcissism for those of us who tried to “stick it to the man” in our early teens by donning oversized Vans sneakers, and scrolling through the 30 songs on our first iPods.
Which isn’t to say that Teeter don’t pump out catchy phrases, sing-along harmonies, and a head-bobbing beat—and hey, after a couple of drinks, the pop-punk angst in the earnest vocals and simplistic lyrics is sure to inspire some sweaty teenage bodies to crash into each other in an impromptu mosh pit. Heating Up was produced by major emo hitmaker Paul Leavitt (All Time Low, Senses Fail)—and the band revels in the most winning characteristics of the genre.
“Standing At Your Window” delves shamelessly into the realm of the cliché, to the extent that it almost becomes an experiment of self-conscious caricature. With lyrics written in rhyming couplets: “I’m standing at your window and I just want to know / I’m hoping and pleading because I’m still believing,” their choruses draw attention to glib phrases about heartbreak. After all, “Kiss me, and kill me after” sounds like something written in ALL CAPS on Facebook chat.
Teeter are the ultimate ear candy—you know, the stuff you keep stuffing in your mouth until you puke purple sweet tarts all over the place.
VVv
—Emily Kellogg
Night Flowers – Night FLowers
Local alternative rock trio Night Flowers’ MySpace page boasts that their music is a collection of roughly 10 million influences, and therein lies the problem with their self-titled debut EP: they can’t pick a sound and stick to it. The result is a genre-jumping mess of styles that never quite coalesces into a recognizable whole.
At times, it seems like Night Flowers are clamouring in vain for atmospheric grunge to make a comeback (“Fortune Cookie”), then they turn around and bust out a dance beat and jagged power chords (“Man of the People”), followed by a dose of Luscious Jackson-style Lilith Fair indie rock (“Pep Rally”).
Guitarist Tara Rice, drummer Kim Heron, and brilliantly-named bassist Sködt McNalty trade up vocals, and while each have pleasant voices, the passing of the spotlight doesn’t help with the lack of continuity.
Rice’s snarling lead vocal on “Ground Zero” shows some promise, but McNalty fares much worse with “Fortune Cookie,” a plodding, slow jam that sounds like Stone Temple Pilots coming down from a particularly bad trip.
It’s significant that the album’s best track is its most adventurous. Six-minute closer “Knock On Wood” begins with a loungey tropical vibe, and breaks at the three-minute mark into a glorious outro with angelic harmonies and distorted guitars that make 1993 sound fresh again. At long last, a sound emerges for Night Flowers to bank upon.
This EP is the sound of a growing band trying on different styles before adopting one for good. Perhaps Night Flowers ought to have waited until they found one before making an album.
VV
—Rob Duffy
